


magic shop

by jupiterdrop



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Or is there?, Witches, full gemini hyuck, renjun has big emotions, some dreamies are aged up!, there's some originality here i promise, you're either a witch or a straight there's no in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterdrop/pseuds/jupiterdrop
Summary: Two boys are trying to find their places in a world where everything is possible. In the way, they find:- slayers;- new feelings;- too much homework;- and each other.





	magic shop

**Author's Note:**

> wassup gamers!!! i don't know if anyone will actually read this ? specially since it's a chaptered fic so ? uh idk anyway english is my 2nd language so if i sound dumb that's why 🤠🤠 also i have no fucking idea how korean unis work but i wanted to write about witches!nct so just BEAR WITH ME OKAYYYY
> 
> i'm just out of high school which means i'm officially jobless now so ! yeah if someone likes this i guess i could update it regularly uwu

Picture this: pretty red lights bought from the nearest Chinatown shining under the black velvet sky; a dragon (a fake one, hopefully) running around the streets trying to save itself from the loud crowd; beautiful, noisy and scary fireworks turning everything into a fantastic mess; hundreds of people yelling and running around in pure shock. And me, right in the middle of everything, just watching while my two worlds collided in the worst way possible.

How did I get here?

Good question, imaginary being.

My name is Huang Renjun and I’m twenty years old — twenty-one if you’re Korean, but I’m not, so I’ll pass. If someone asks you about me, tell them that I’m just a regular Chinese guy, the ordinary college student that is always too tired and a little bit depressed, without anything unusual about me besides the big ass dark circles around my eyes. Tell them that I don’t have many friends, have never heard of a Donghyuck in my life and am just trying to get my damn Architecture degree so I can satisfy my parents’ capitalist wishes.

But, you see, that’s not exactly true. It was at some point, but not anymore. And being honest about the circumstances that brought me to this disastrous colliding point can cost me a lot, including my life, so I’m not willing to take many risks. I ask that, if you have any gossipy tendencies or are looking for an Asian boy with colored hair, an intriguing attitude and some kind of special talent, turn around and leave me alone. You definitely don’t wanna mess with me. _Capiche_?

Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, I’m just kidding. Kind of. Anyway.

To the discreet and not-looking-for-young-supernatural-delinquents ones, make yourself at home and come with me. Make some tea, sit on a comfortable position and pay attention to me. I’ll only tell you once.

 

 

I’m convinced everything started on the second half of last year, when I was just an innocent nineteen-year-old baby. It was the first day of classes of my second semester in college, but I was already desperate. Anxiety has always been my forte, you know?

While I tied my shoes, brushed my teeth and analyzed my timetable all at the same time, I couldn’t help but feeling like I had shot myself in the foot that time. Night classes three times a week? Technical drawing at 7:30am on a _Monday_? I was really going insane, wasn’t I? I could already picture the mental breakdowns in the library and all the ranting I’d have to do on Twitter, and I’m not even mentioning the chronic headaches.

By the time I finally finished everything I was doing (freaking out included), I was already three minutes late for my first class.

Disadvantages of living a mere five minute walk away from your classrooms: exaggerated sloth. I was so used to waking up twenty minutes before actually needing to be in class that I hadn’t taken into consideration the possibility of unforeseen events, especially with the laziness that comes with the beginning of the semester. Like on that Monday for example, when my roommate burned our humble breakfast (grilled cheese) and ruined our meticulously lazy schedule.

But, well, I couldn’t get angry at Jeno. How could I? He smiled as sweetly as possible and said the world’s most angelic _sorry Jun_ , so I just smiled back, shrugged and decided to bring some cereal bars to class, assuring Jeno that it wasn’t a big deal at all.

When I arrived in the classroom, I was greeted by the nice Technical Drawing II teacher who just told me to wake up earlier next time. Part of me felt guilty, since it was one of the only classes that I actually knew I’d enjoy, but the feeling went away as soon as I remembered that it was a Monday morning and I was a winner just by being there, sitting straight with my eyes open and sketchbook in hands.

Just between us, being an architect was never my dream. But between that and studying something business related, like my parents planned since I was a dumb toddler, I was actually kind of lucky. Like my mom had said before taking me to the airport a year before, about to send her youngest son alone to a whole new country, apparently “Sometimes we have to accept that dreams and reality are separate worlds.”

How nice of her, right?

But, back to the story, there’s a reason why I consider this day the beginning of The Mess. The reason had a name, a surname and an awful attitude in general, but we’ll get to that later.

“As you might have heard”, Mrs. Cho said after introducing that semester’s contents. “During this round of classes, Architecture and Scenography majors will be closer than ever!”

Most of us looked around, acknowledging the barely familiar faces from other classes. On the introductory lecture last week, though I barely paid any attention, I caught something about a joint project between the courses. Since Architecture and Scenography were so close and intricate in the marketplace, it actually made sense, but it didn’t make me the happiest.

“Most of you arrived earlier this year, so you probably know about the Seollal festival the university yields,” the teacher went on. “For those who don’t, we celebrate Lunar New Year with a charity party open to the whole district, and it’s _big_. Usually it’s the same cliché Seollal festival you’d see around the whole country, but for this time the Design department decided it’d be a great idea to bring future architects and set designers together to provide a more… contemporary look into it. And, of course, you’ll be evaluated for your work! Maybe even better things can come your ways.”

The class collapsed into conversations, some of them excited and some of them worried, some people just grumbling over the university putting all the work on the students’ backs. I, on the other hand, merely sighed. To be honest, I wasn’t the biggest fan of those specific theater kids. They were out there doing almost everything we already did, but without having to worry about Calculus or Topography–that is, the boring parts. It was unfair that they could live their lives talking about Art History and other fun stuff without the monster of the Topography finals breathing on their necks all the time.

And, okay, maybe I _was_ kind of jealous of them. Maybe I wanted to talk about the things I loved (which definitely had nothing to do with outlining grounds) all day instead of being forced to study something simply because my parents didn’t want me to be the black sheep of the family, the filthy, frivolous _artist_. But, hey, I was allowed to be bitter, wasn’t I?

"Renjun-ssi, are you listening?"

I blinked, startled by the teacher’s call, and cleared my throat.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cho?” I said, embarrassed.

"I asked if it's all right for you to be named the head of this project on the Architecture side." Her fake patient tone was sarcastic, but her expression soon softened to an only half-cynical smile. "Since you did such a good job last semester, I'm sure you're fit for the task. And I’d love to have a foreigner touch to our festival!”

I held a sigh deep down in my lungs.

You see, I've never been a super-organized, exceptional and inspiring leader. Nor did I want to be, to tell you the truth, because responsibilities make me anxious and stressed to the most extreme extent. But I have a control problem. I've always had the feeling that if I'm not in charge, everything goes wrong because other people are incompetent and my way is the only way possible.

Problematic? Perhaps. But I assure you that I’ve always been the most harmed by this kind of obsession.

"I'd love to, Mrs. Cho." I gave my most efficient smile as she nodded and noted my name somewhere.

“Perfect!” She glanced around the room. "And, of course, we need a leader for the Scenography department. Any volunteers?”

Immediately, an excited hand rose in the front row, and all I could identify from the person besides the bright red hoodie was the hair in the same tone. I almost frowned, but managed to keep myself together while the Scenography students decided that the boy in red would, in fact, be their representative. He gave his name to Mrs. Cho, who smiled, satisfied, and proceeded to give details about the preparation.

If my almost-a-year-ago self could describe Lee Donghyuck, it would probably be with a mere eye roll. Although I’ve had a lot of my classes with him last semester, I didn’t know much about the guy other than the fact that he always had something to say during the classes, no matter how unnecessary it was, and was adored by everyone, apparently. In addition to that, he sold tarot readings at the back of the cafeteria almost everyday during lunch.

Basically, he was the expansive and supposedly charismatic kind of person that I’d rather not get involved with. You know, to avoid unnecessary stress and everything. And you might even think this is bullshit, but if I had followed my own intuition, I wouldn’t have to be here telling this story because… well, there wouldn’t be one.

"And it's always good to remember that the festival needs to appeal to the public since we have a pre-set goal: to raise money," Mrs. Cho said, laughing. "Renjun and Donghyuck, I'll send an e-mail with all the details for you this afternoon. Until next week, I hope you already have an outline of your work plan ready, since there’s no time to lose.”

Before I could sink my face into my hands because _oh my God_ what had I gotten myself into this time, the bell rang, announcing the end of the class. The teacher dismissed us with a lively smile, and I just let out that sigh I was holding for so long. As much as that was the last thing I wanted to do, I thought I'd ask for Donghyuck's number so we wouldn’t have to actually do more talking than necessary. But before I could even get up, I saw him with the corner of my eyes. Just his blazing red hair as he quickly walked out the door.

I closed my bag and snorted. The next class was Topography, in ten minutes, so I’d have to wait until lunch to go to Donghyuck, right at the table where he’d be doing his freaking tarot readings, probably surrounded by easily impressed people, like he always was.

It was only nine and something in the morning of the first day of classes of the semester, but all I could think of while chewing on a cereal bar was the world _holidays_.

I already knew it would be a long, stressful road ahead... But I had no idea of how much.

 

 

The next day, after spending precious hours of my night reading Mrs. Cho’s 24-page summary of the Seollal’s planning, I had finally accepted my fate. My annoying, hard-to-handle, outrageously red-headed fate.

Since I entered college, I’ve always been a fan of the cafeteria. For me, there was nothing more convenient than the not always good, seemingly old and most importantly free food that was offered to us there almost every day. I never dared spending more than fifteen minutes in that muffled and noisy environment, though, since I valued my last strand of mental stability very much. But those brief journeys were enough to make me familiar with the uproar caused by Lee Donghyuck.

Every day, if paid enough attention-which I definitely had not done many times before that forced interaction-you would see him walk slowly toward the same table, looking around as if he wanted to attract pull eyes to himself, his hands absently and skillfully shuffling his tarot cards as he walked. You would notice how some people seemed to simply float toward him, and how soon a line that folded the tables would form. To this day, I'm still not sure of what was the real target of all that attention-the magic tricks or Donghyuck himself.

"I know the rice is overcooked,” Jeno joked, making me look away from Donghyuck to face his smile. “But, c’mon, it's not that bad.”

“What?” I asked, confused, but with a smile already appearing as a response.

"You look sick," he explained with a shrug.

I took a quick look at the corner where Donghyuck laughed at something, already preparing a round with his card set while the curious people perched around him like crows. This time I let out a frustrated sigh of escape.

“Kinda.”

"You're not mad about yesterday, are you?" Jeno looked away from his plate. “I know I’m a disaster but—”

“No! Jeno, it’s nothing about that” I assured him with a dumb laugh that faded really quickly. “It’s just—this new project that’s worth, like, my entire grade this semester and I ended up being responsible for everything.”

"Oh, man, that sucks," Jeno said, empathically. "But you'll nail it, that's for sure."

"I know that," I huffed, pulling my half full bowl away, with no appetite. "The problem is that it's not just an Architecture project. I'll to have to work with one of the Scenography guys, which means double stress to get the results I want.”

Jeno didn't seem to understand how bad that was, but he made a slight grimace to make me feel comforted.

“And it’s not just any guy!” I emphasized, raising my thumb to point at the source of my current irritation. “It’s Mr. Houdini right there.”

“I don’t think Houdini did tarot readings,” Jeno provided, as if he genuinely wanted to help. When he saw my expression, however, he changed his mind. “I mean, _shit_. If I can help with anything, just ask me.”

I thanked him with a frustrated nod.

At that point, I knew I was just cashing my dissatisfaction on Donghyuck, a boy I didn’t even know to be honest, but was already willing to dislike. The complicated and demanding project, the responsibility I had forced upon myself, the stressful routine of trying so hard to get something I didn’t even want–everything being turned into aversion for that fussy creature. But honestly, it was the easiest way out, and I had no intentions of stopping that anytime soon.

After getting up to get rid of my leftovers, I explained to Jeno that I needed to talk to Donghyuck about Mrs. Cho's plans, and he wished me good luck. I figured I'd really need it to walk through that heap of people and get to the redheaded boy–or maybe just a few well-directed pushes to clear the way. Then, unwillingly, I went there and...

Long story short, it didn’t work. At all.

Let's say I'm a relatively small guy. Let’s say people were too determined to not be pushed around, so something went wrong in the process and I was swallowed up by the tiny crowd for a moment. Those people, anxious so that the cards decided their fate for them, barely listened to my protests as they watched Donghyuck's tricks. Apparently, people kept some distance from the table where he sat, as if there was some sort of privacy ethic for each client. I snorted. I _didn’t_ have time for that.

As the current client got up to leave, I stepped forward in front of the people waiting in front of me, ignoring the protests as I headed towards Donghyuck, feeling angry and perhaps a little embarrassed. He just watched as I approached, jumping the queue because it’d only take two minutes, and sat down. Unlike those people, I had real and important things to solve.

Donghyuck stared at me for a few seconds with an arched eyebrow. Up close, her subtle, shiny makeup seemed to add even more to his purposefully intense, engaging aura. To be honest, even at that moment I had to remind myself that I was frustrated and the last thing I needed was to be intrigued by the looks of an illusionist.

I cleared my throat.

“My name’s Renjun, we have some classes together,” I said in my most professional tone. “I am here to—“

“I know” Donghyuck interrupted, looking almost bored as he talked.

I clenched my jaw.

"I'm here to talk about Mrs. Cho's project." I finished the sentence anyway, trying not to let the irritation get to me.

“Is that it?” Without even asking, he began to shuffle the tarot cards around in his hands, preparing the next game.

I frowned and my lips parted.

"Well, I wanted to know if you can give me your phone number so we can sort it out as quickly as possible," I clarified, almost crossing the line between angry and intrigued by his attitude.

Before answering me, he started spreading cards across the table. He put ten of them down, slowly and carefully, looking too focused on what he was doing to even make any sound. The cards looked old and worn out by constant use, but well preserved. I would’ve felt insulted if it weren’t for the fact that I ended up getting distracted by the deck.

Even if I didn’t believe that a piece of paper and plastic could guess my past or predict my future–which I definitely didn’t–, it was impossible not to be fascinated by the illustrations. The saturated tones, though a little faded, made the images look more powerful and imposing, more full of life, like the shades of red that Donghyuck wore. The one that caught my attention the most was painted in warm tones that bordered the exaggeration, with the figure of a blond woman easily holding the mouth of a golden lion open. Under the picture, the title of the card, "The Force", could be read.

"Why does everyone want to know my phone number?" He smiled, smug. "But I don’t have one of those, sorry.”

I blinked back to reality, and it was annoying.

“What?”

“I don’t have a cellphone,” He reaffirmed, starting to analyze the cards he had picked.

"Why not?!" I asked, almost resentful.

"Why would I?" Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, looking up at me.

"Oh, I don’t know, to communicate with the rest of the world in a more practical way?"

"Don’t you think talking is practical enough?" A very light and defiant smile began to appear on his face.

"I don’t want to _talk_ to you whenever I have to discuss something about the project," I said indignantly. "I don’t have that much time to waste, you know that?"

Donghyuck laughed, not even having the decency to look at me. He was studying the cards on the table with disarming attention and caution, more interested in them than me, to whom that destiny supposedly belonged.

"I don’t have to have a phone just to make your life more practical, angel," he said, not at all affected. The smile on his face seemed to widen suddenly as he leaned forward more curiously. “Oh, what is this here? Looks like somebody fell in love recently, huh? And we only met five minutes ago! Are you going to tell me it was love at first sight?”

"Love at first sight is scientifically impossible," I answered immediately in disgust, though I felt my neck burn lightly. Not because of Donghyuck, of course, but for a reason that, looking back now, is almost as embarrassing as this. But I refused to let him think his _wittiness_ had any effect on me.

 “No problem!” Donghyuck's smile thinned. “I will be here at the same time tomorrow if you are interested in seeing me a second time.”

I had to close my mouth so as to not let out a cry of frustration. Although most of me wanted to lose my elegance and grab him by the hair, I forced myself to close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"I came here to talk about the Seollal." I started again, with all the patience I could muster. It wasn’t much. "We need to give the teacher an outline of our plan by next week, and you don’t even have a cell phone.”

Donghyuck shrugged.

"I'm available whenever you need me, angel," he said, this time at least looking at me. "And I'm always here at lunchtime, so you know where to find me. Just tell me the time and place I'll be there.”

I felt my soul weeping in frustration as I sighed the following words:

"I have no choice, do I?"

His answer was a smile that almost convinced me that Donghyuck felt bad for me. I sighed, saying something about meeting him after Art History class (that we were doing together) the next day to go to the library, and started getting up because I wasn’t at all excited about staying there any longer than necessary.

"Hey, you don’t want me to tell you about your cards?" Donghyuck asked. "I accept coin payments!"

I looked back at him, at the cards, then at him again.

“I’ll pass,” I said with a cynical laugh.

The people around us seemed very focused on the conversation so far, but it's not as if I remember enough to describe them more than being overly curious as I made my way out.

Jeno had already left to prepare for his class in the chemistry lab in a few minutes, so I walked alone to the dorm, since my next class would only be at seven in the evening. Maybe I could give myself time to think of something for Seollal, something so perfect and complete that it would dismiss me from meeting Donghyuck again.

Or maybe I could just take a good old nap to totally forget about any of this, which sounded a thousand times better.

**Author's Note:**

> renjun is an aries okay give him a break his feelings are just Like That
> 
> hope you guys liked it?? huh let me know if you did so i can like continue writing and stuff kjkgjfkj 
> 
> my twitter is @00linne hmu with your complaints byee


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